Standing In The Shadows
by Lilith the Queen
Summary: A dark psychological thriller about three women and one. Please review this. Thank you Frances for allowing me to use your characterization in this story.
1. Standing In The Shadows Part One

Standing In The Shadows 

Part One 

Only her eyes were visible in the light from the flickering candle. Her sullen eyes, sometimes glowing red and sometimes human blue. Her body was hidden by the shadows. He had never seen her body, yet he knew every inch of it. 

"Sirius," she said, bringing him back to reality. "Tell me. Who am I?" 

"A Dementress," he said. "A guardian of the damned. A psychomancer." 

"Correct." Her voice was as smooth and indifferent as the sky. "And who are you?" 

"I am Sirius Black," he said. "I was wrongly accused of murder." 

"Good." She made a note on her clipboard. "We're making progress. This may be the last time you ever have to do this. Do you love me?" There was no change in her speech. Except for the words, it could have been another rote question. 

"Yes," he said, savoring the word. "Yes. With all my heart." 

"Would you do anything for me?" 

"Yes." 

"Would you kill for me?" 

"Yes." 

"Would you die for me?" 

"Yes." 

There was a pause while she wrote something on her clipboard. "Very good. But tell me this: Why?" 

He wasn't sure what to say. She had never asked him this before. "I don't know." 

"Take all the time you need." The words were strangely reassuring. "There is no wrong answer." 

Finally, he answered, "Because you keep me from insanity. Because I owe you a debt." 

"Do you." She put her clipboard down. "And what is that debt?" 

"Anything you may ask of me." His voice was calm. 

She smiled. He couldn't see it in the dark, but he could sense it. "You say you would do anything." 

"Yes," he said, dreading what this would lead up to. "Anything." 

"Would you," she began. "If I asked you to, would you kill Harry Potter for me?" 

He stared at the floor. "Why," he asked hoarsely, "do you ask me this?" 

"Answer the question," she said. "Would you kill Harry Potter for me?" 

He buried his face in his hands. "Don't ask me to choose. Please." 

"Answer the question." Her voice was maddening. 

He looked up at her. "No." 

She didn't waver. "Why not?" 

"I have taken an oath to protect him. I can't hurt him." Even as he spoke the words, he knew it was a lie. She could make him do anything, and he would be powerless to resist. 

There was a snap. She closed the clipboard. "Why did you take the oath? Is that the only reason?" 

"He's my last link to James and Lily. I would never forgive myself." He bowed his head. 

"So that's the only reason you protect him. He is a manifestation of your dead friends." She was back to the impassive psychomancer, neutral and unfamiliar. 

He pounded on his forehead. "Why? Why do you do this to me? You know I'm innocent." 

She smiled again. "Very well. I shall never ask you to kill him." She stood up and turned, leaving the room. "You are free to go." 

He did not get up. 

She stopped in her tracks. "I said you are free to go." 

"I'm going to stay here," he said. "Until I die. I can't go back with the Dementors." 

"You aren't." Her words fell flat. "You have been successfully rehabilitated. Congratulations." 

He looked at her. "I'm free." 

She spread her arms. "As free as the sky and the wind." There was a mocking, laughing note in her voice. 

"The Dementors…" He stopped. "They'll never let me through." 

She glided closer to him. "Allow me." 

She lifted up the back of his shirt. He felt her fingers, cool as smoke, drift across his back. "I think that will do the trick." She let the fabric fall, covering any magical sigils she might have traced. 

He stood up to face her. "I can't leave you." 

She touched his face. "You will never leave me. I will always love you." 

He knew it was a lie. He didn't care. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman gazed sullenly at the students. "I suppose none of you know who I am?" 

There were blank looks from everyone. Hermione raised her hand. "Now I'm just taking a wild guess here," she said. "But you're the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?" 

The woman smiled. "Sarcasm," she said. "Five points to Gryffindor. Technically, yes." 

She was tall, with limp, curly blonde hair and large blue eyes hidden behind glasses. She wore a black turtleneck and black jeans, and a glass ball around her neck in an iron claw. But there was something not quite right about her appearance, as though her form was only a shadow of her true self. 

"My name," she said, "is Onyx Orion. Does that mean nothing to you?" 

Another collective blank look from the class. 

"Good," she said. "It would be most difficult if any of you knew me." 

She suddenly seemed to change. "All right. Does anyone know what psychomancy is?" 

"That was a truly strange class," Ron remarked, afterwards. 

"I don't know about that," Hermione said. "I thought it was interesting." 

Harry shrugged. "Right. But I've never heard of someone going inside the minds of an animal. I think she was making it up." 

"Actually," Hermione said, "it's possible. There are a few witches that can do it. For some reason, wizards can't. I think it has something to do with animal empathy." 

"No," Ron said, "those are only the old-fashioned witches. The kind that live up in the mountains." 

"Hermione," Harry said suddenly. "When you asked her that question…did she take _away_ five points?" 

Hermione started. "She gave me five points," she said. "For sarcasm. Now that you mention it, I suppose it's a bit odd." 

"This is going to be an interesting year," Ron said to himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Madeline lay in the pool, her eyes closed. Her short, curly brown hair drifted around her shoulders. "A lovely day," she murmured to herself. 

She mentally monitored the forest around her. This was the Shadow Lady's estate, a vast expanse of luxury in the middle of nowhere. Shadow Lady had been in Azkaban for years, now, for stealing the souls of nine people. She had left Madeline, her adopted daughter, to take care of her vast fortune. 

Shadow Lady had found Madeline at age eleven, a cynical, alienated girl stuck in the public school system. She had been the most hated girl in the school. You know her. She's the girl that always twitches when she talks, the one that nobody dares to touch for fear of cooties, the one that pretends to cast spells on people when she's angry at them, the one that sits far away from everyone else at lunch and spends the rest of her time in the library. That was Madeline. She had prayed, one night, her mother downstairs working on a term paper, her father in a bar somewhere. She had pleaded with the world to take her away from this life, that anything else would do. Shadow Lady had heard. She had smote Madeline's enemies and transported her to her villa in a place that had previously only existed inside of Madeline's head. Madeline had paid off her debt long ago. She stayed with Shadow Lady because there was nowhere else to go. 

This was Madeline's favorite part of the forest. It was always cloudy here, but warm. She hated sunshine. Often it would rain, a warm wet shower. In the summer it would thunderstorm. Madeline found thunderstorms unbelievably erotic, and would often convince one of the maids to accompany her in a storm-watching. Afterwards, she would either promote or fire them, of course. There was no sense in seducing someone and leaving them with nothing to show for it. 

She scanned the area around her. Nothing really. There was an elk munching on some grass, and a nightingale perched near him. 

_When will she be back?_ It had been asked many times. 

Madeline sighed. "She'll be back when she's back," she said. 

I want her to come back. I'm sick of this. Why can't we just pay the debt and get it over with? I never even asked for this. 

"But she gave it to you, and aren't you grateful she did." Madeline opened one eye. "We've gone over this a thousand times." 

_What's he doing now?_ It was another, a woman. 

Madeline concentrated. "He's in his room, studying." 

_I wish I could see him. My precious little boy._ She was wistful. 

Madeline propped herself up on her elbows. "Well, I'm sorry, Lily. But it's pretty hard to lug a looking glass all the way out here." 

_Couldn't you just enchant the water or something for her?_ He was impatient. _I'm sick of her mooning over him all the time. I just want to get this over with._

"For shame, James." Madeline cocked her head and smiled. "He _is_ your only son, and she _is_ your wife. You could be a little more understanding." 

_I worry about him._ Lily sighed. _I wish I could talk to him._

Madeline climbed out of the water. "Fine. Wait until it smoothes over, and then I'll enchant it." 

She cast a screen spell on the pool. It took very little effort. 

The elk plodded over and peered at the pool. _He looks like me at that age_. 

The nightingale joined him. _He has my eyes. He's so sweet_. She cooed. 

Madeline smiled. She had seen this before. It was very common. Two people, bonded to one another by a lifetime of faded love. All too often, the marriage had been a mistake in the first place, and all that was keeping them together was their mutual love for their offspring. Madeline hadn't even had that from her parents. They had been quite glad that she was gone, because they had an excuse to divorce. 

She left them gazing into the pool while she walked toward the castle. It was a gloomy and forbidding place from the outside, a misty and dreaming home on the inside. 

Marina, one of her favorite maids, met her at the door. "There's been a message from the Shadow Lady herself," she told Madeline. 

Madeline raised one eyebrow. "You must be mistaken. She's been in Azkaban for ages and we've had no sign of her. If she would have sent a message, she would have by now." 

"Maybe you should read the message," Marina suggested with a resigned sigh. 

Madeline followed her to the library, where there was a single scrap of parchment sitting on a table. 

She picked up the parchment and scanned it. It was written in her adoptive mother's delicate, flamboyant hand. 

Dearest child, 

I have fulfilled my mission and have been let out of prison. I will be arriving shortly to resume my duties. You will still be in charge of the estate; however, I will be in charge of all other affairs. I may not be back in person for some time. 

In The Shadows 

Madeline smiled. "At last." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Standing In The Shadows Part Two

"There are three psychomantic spells," Onyx intoned. "The first one is the VALIS spell. This spell, if done correctly, perverts reality. A controlled spell can have an effect on anything from the entire universe to one object." She wrote the word VALIS on the board and kept talking. 

"The second spell is the UBIK spell. This spell can change reality. A controlled spell can affect anything from a single object to the entire timeline, as in the VALIS spell." She wrote UBIK on the board and kept talking. 

"We will compare and contrast these spells. I will perform them for you, and eventually you may perform these yourself." She stood facing the class. "Are there any questions?" 

Hermione raised her hand. "What's the third spell?" 

Onyx looked at her, surprised. "Excuse me." 

"You said that there are three psychomantic spells," Hermione said. "But you've only told us about two of them. What's the third one?" 

Onyx smiled coldly. "Nothing," she said. "An advanced and arcane formula. It isn't even used anymore. A Freudian slip. Forget I mentioned it." She turned to the blackboard. "Now—" 

"Are we ever going to learn it?" Hermione pressed. 

Onyx glared at her. "No. Do not speak of it again. Now, if you would—" 

"Well, isn't it a bit unfair to tell us that there are three spells, not tell us about the third one, and then tell us that we're not ever going to learn it?" Hermione was staring at Onyx. 

Onyx smashed the chalk against the blackboard, making everyone jump. She slowly turned around and leveled her steely gaze at Hermione. "Do you, by any chance, have obsessive compulsive disorder, my dear?" 

Hermione pressed herself against the back of her seat. "No. Not anymore." Her voice was a whisper. 

Onyx smiled grimly. "This may be a good chance to learn the psychomantic curse. This spell," she said, lapsing into stentorian classroom tones, "is called the Weatherwax spell, after the witch who created it. It induces symptoms of psychological diseases in people. In order to use it, you must define the disease in psychomantic runes." She looked at Hermione over the top of her glasses. "_Neurotica Och-Gamma-Mem._ Does that answer your question?" 

The rest of the period went off without a hitch. Hermione sat there with her eyes shut and didn't move when it was time to go. 

Harry shook her gently. "Hey, wake up." 

Hermione opened her eyes twisted her head slightly to look at him. It seemed to take her a large amount of effort. "If I do anything weird," she said, through clenched teeth, "if I twitch, or try to do anything in a pattern, kill me, all right? I don't know how long this is going to last. To last," she added. This seemed to make her slightly more relaxed. 

Ron stared at her. "Um…are you feeling okay?" 

Hermione shook her head and carefully got out of her chair. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She lowered the veil onto her head. The official garb of the Shadow Lady. 

It was a title, not a name. The Shadow Lady had been passed down as a legend for ages. She was the original Lilith, the woman, independent, but drawing power from others; wicked and sinful, but objective and pure; dark and sexual. 

And it was she. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A raven fluttered into Albus Dumbledore's window. He looked up in surprise. 

The raven cocked its head. "Nevermore, you bastard," it said. It extended its foot to him, holding a letter. 

Albus sighed. Only one woman had that kind of sense of humor, to teach a raven to say something stupid like that. 

He took the letter. "From Madeline, I suppose." 

The raven nodded. "Nevermore, you bastard." 

Albus glared at it. "Shut up and let me read this." 

Albus: Shadow Lady is back. She's really looking forward to seeing you again. Why don't' you drop by sometime for tea? 

Albus groaned. The Shadow Lady was the only person in the world that could successfully condescend to him. The last time he'd seen her, he had gone away with the feeling that he was doing something severely wrong. 

But her word was quite nearly law. The Shadow Lady was on the administrative board of the Llewellyn school district, which governed all the magical schools in this dimension. The last time he had crossed her, the funding to Hogwarts had dropped by nearly 25%. He couldn't risk that again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marina was waiting for him at the door. She smiled beatifically. "Albus. How good of you to come." 

Albus nodded. "It's good to come. Ah…where is the Lady herself?" 

Marina jerked her thumb back. "In the parlor. You remember the way?" 

"All too well," Albus said. 

Shadow Lady was sitting on an overstuffed velvet chair. She was wearing a long, black silk dress, with a velvet-strapped bodice and double-hemmed lace sleeves. There was a black lace veil over her face, and she was wearing black gloves. 

She nodded at him. "Albus." 

Albus settled into an embroidered sofa. "Lady." 

Shadow Lady leaned forward, arranging the tea things. "You look healthy." 

"I would say the same for you," Albus said, "except that I can't tell." 

A slight laugh. "Very good. I have little or no influence on material things in my present, ethereal form. In order to manifest myself at all upon any part of the world that is composed of matter, I must completely cover myself. Cream or lemon?" 

"Neither, if you would." Albus took the proffered teacup. It was lukewarm. "You don't like hot tea?" 

"I have what they call a cat's tongue," Shadow Lady explained. "I dislike extremes." 

"That explains a lot," commented Albus. 

Shadow Lady paused. "You've gotten sharper over the years. I am impressed." 

Albus leaned back. "You haven't been around to wear me down with your tongue, hmm?" 

"Double entendres are the crudest form of wit," Shadow Lady snapped. 

Albus took a long, slow sip of his tea. "I apologize," he said primly. 

Shadow Lady lounged in her chair. "Do you know what a succubus is?" she asked him. 

Albus shrugged. "I don't believe I've heard of them." 

"They are," Shadow Lady told him, "a cross between Dementors and veelas. A succubus will slip into your bed at night, and then drain your energy." She stirred her tea slowly. "I'm only wondering." 

Albus nodded. "Ah, yes. The offspring of a Dementor and a veela. I believe one was at large a few years ago." 

"It was." Shadow Lady took a long, slow sip of her tea. "They caught her, and put her into Azkaban. As I've heard, she was not affected by the Dementors, being one herself." 

"Do tell." Albus crossed his legs. 

"She called herself Dementress. She apparently had the ability to change shape at will, and managed to fool the human guards into believing…well, a number of things. They eventually promoted her to prison psychomancer." 

"Really." Albus was listening intently. 

"According to the report," Shadow Lady went on, "she made quite a few of the prisoners fall in love with her. She helped Sirius Black escape, and then strolled out of the place." She took another drink of her tea. "Quite smooth, to tell you the truth." 

Albus looked at his teacup. "The tea?" 

Shadow Lady looked at him over the rim of her cup. "No, the way she walked out on the prison. Didn't even bother with a disguise." She drained the last of her tea, set the cup down with a clink, and gave him a bright smile. "Would you like some macaroons?" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry knocked on the door to Onyx Orion's chamber. "Excuse me? Is there anyone in there?" 

Onyx opened the door a crack and poked her head out. "What can I do for you?" 

Harry went blank. "Uh…I was…" 

Onyx opened the door and drew him into her chamber. She quietly closed the door and sat on the bed. "Now. What did you want?" 

Harry looked around the room. It was very sparse. There were no ornamentations at all, except for a single hand mirror that was hung upside down on the wall. 

He remembered what he had come for. "I've come to ask you to take the curse off of Hermione." He gulped. "The one that you put on her, I mean." 

Onyx gazed tiredly at him. "I put no curse on her." 

Harry was shocked. "But—I saw you—what do you mean?" 

"Obsessive-compulsive disorder runs in Hermione's family," Onyx explained to him. "It's manifested in her mother as bulimia and a preoccupation with cleanliness, the last of which is very important to her profession. In her father, it's manifested as a preoccupation with memorization and an inferiority complex, both of which have been passed on to Hermione. That's why she spends so much time studying." 

"That explains a lot," Harry said. "But if you didn't put a curse on her, what did you do?" 

"I simply triggered the disorder," Onyx said. "In many cases of OCD, it manifests as nonsense words or random thoughts running through the victim's head. The words _Neurotica Och-Gamma-Mem_ are probably running through Hermione's head. With that comes the preoccupation with rituals, and numbers. Have you noticed if she is speaking in certain amounts of syllables?" 

"No," Harry said. "She hasn't been speaking much at all since you…did whatever." 

"Triggered the disorder," Onyx said. "Next time she speaks, note the number of syllables. It's probably a multiple of four or eight. Notice also if she twitches or taps her fingers in a certain pattern—anything like that." 

"Yeah," Harry said. He got up to go. "Okay. Thanks." 

"One more thing," Onyx said. "Tell Sirius Black I said hi." 


End file.
